Why Should I Be Sad?
by brittany-anderson
Summary: NEW CHAPTER UP. A year after Britney and Justin break up, Britney's life spirals out of control. Can Justin help save her from herself? Set in 2003/4. Rated T for drug use. Please review if you read!
1. Prologue

June 2003

Britney's POV

I don't know why I'm sitting outside. It's the middle of the night in New York City, and even though its summer time its still freezing, and I don't even have a jacket on. But then again, I'm not really cold. I guess my emotional numbness has turned into physical numbness as well.

I love this apartment. Its nice and cozy yet still lavish enough for my taste. I love being so high up. I feel so free. Like finally nobody can see me. I let out a small sigh and lean back against the chair as I sit on my balcony, watching the world below me. Maybe this break wasn't such a good idea. It gives me too much time to think; too much time to think about _him_.

The last time I saw him was about five months ago, at his birthday party. For some reason, after all of the shit he's said about me, after all the things he's done, and even after that dreadful music video, I still went. I walked into that party with a smile on my face, even though I knew that everyone was talking about me. It was so awful. I went up to him to wish him a happy birthday and he was already drunk with some brunette's tongue down his throat. He looked at me as if he was confused as to why I was there, even though he was the one who invited me. Neither of us said anything. We just stood staring for a couple seconds before I turned around and left. I turned around once before I left to see if he was coming after me, but he wasn't.

And then, as if I didn't think he could hurt me a any worse, he starts dating Cameron. It was like a slap in my face how quickly he moved on. The pain I felt the day when I found out is unimaginable. I would've punched him in the face if I had the chance. And I grew to hate a woman that I didn't even know. Thanks to him, I've been full of nothing but hate, anger, sadness, and envy lately.

Now that I'm thinking about all of this my emotional numbness is disappearing and there's an excruciating pain in my heart. A broken heart really is one of the worst feelings ever. I seriously can't take this anymore. I've been through too much pain, too much sorrow, and its all because of him. I hate him…do I? No, of course I don't. I love him, and the love for him never seems to fade. People tell me that it will go away, you'll get over it. But its been over a year, and it just seems to get worse. I can't take this shit anymore. I've dealt with this for too long. I want _real _emotional numbness. Something that will completely make me forget him, even if just for a moment.

Against my better judgment, I get up from the chair and walk back inside, feeling the heat of the room against my icy skin. My feet drag on the plush carpet of the living room as I'm too lazy to even pick them up. I'm too lazy to do anything these days.

My feet land on the cold tile of the kitchen as I go to open one of the cabinets and take out what I want…no, what I need. I take the top off of the bottle and put it to my nose, my eyes instantly watering as the violent scent of the vodka hits my senses. I take out a small glass and poor it about half way full. I hold the glass of liquid in my right hand, swirling it around as I see my reflection in it. I lick my lips, anticipating the bitter taste but sweet feeling that it will bring me. I raise the glass to my lips but stop as I hear my mother's words in my head.

"Promise me, Britney, that you will never turn to drugs or alcohol. You know you have a very strong addiction gene from your father's side. Don't continue the cycle of Spears' who let addiction get the best of them. Promise me."

I consider her words as I continue to look into the glass. I no longer see my reflection. I see my father's reflection, I see my uncle's reflection, I see my grandfather's reflection. I never thought I would be in this situation. I never thought I would actually understand why people turn to substance abuse. But I understand now, I understand completely. And to be quite honest, I'd much rather be addicted to this glass of vodka than be addicted to him for one more day.

I blink back my tears and take a big gulp, feeling the heat of the alcohol sting my throat and travel down into my stomach. Almost instantly I feel tingly. I take another gulp. My heart has stopped hurting now. I take another. I officially feel happy. I look down at the glass to find it completely empty and I laugh out loud as I realize how fast I drank it. I let a small burp out before I pour myself another glass. I raise the glass in the air, ready to prepare a speech for no one but myself.

"This," I saw out loud, "is to you, Timberlake. To help me forget you. To help me forget all the times that you've hurt me. And to help me forget all the good times we had. Because I don't want to feel pain anymore. So fuck you, and have a nice life."

I giggle in satisfaction before I take another huge gulp. I'm seriously so proud of myself right now. And, might I add, I'm feeling pretty damn good. I think this is the beginning to a beautiful new relationship.

I am suddenly awoken by very loud and obnoxious banging. I open my eyes but quickly close them when I feel the pain shoot through my head. "Who the fuck is that?" I say to myself, startled by how scratchy and quiet my voice is. The banging continues and so does the pain in my head. I hear somebody grunt beside me and my head immediately shoots up. I look around my living room, disregarding the fact that I'm sprawled out on the floor, and I see two of my girlfriends and my brother scattered around the rest of the room. Ohhh, now I remember. After I was already good and drunk I told them to come over and party with me. They must be just as hung-over as I am.

"Brit, get the fucking door," Brian says angrily. I somehow find the strength to push myself off of the floor, trying my best to walk steadily even though everything is spinning and I'm seeing stars. I finally reach the door and open it, and I'm immediately sobered up by the site of my mother.

"Britney Jean-" she starts, but stops dead in her tracks when she takes a moment to look at me. "What the hell happened to you?" She says as her nose scrunches up in disgust. I have no idea what I look like, though I'm sure it can't be pretty.

"I dunno…I was juss.." I try to talk, but my words are still slurring.

"Is that momma?" I hear Brian ask from behind me. She looks surprised to hear his voice, even though he lives in New York too and we always hang out. She pushes past me and walks into my apartment, letting out a sarcastic and somewhat bitter laugh at the empty vodka bottles and drunk girls, along with her drunk son and daughter.

"What did I tell you about drinking?" She says angrily as she begins to pick up the mess that we made.

"Maaaa," Brian says as he rubs his eyes, "What are you doing? Those are ours." He obviously can't see that we completely destroyed those bottled and there's nothing left.

"What kind of example is this to be setting for your sister?" She says in a venomous tone. She's definitely pissed. "Britney, I'm gonna make you breakfast and you need to go and shower. Did you forget that you have an interview today? Your album comes out in five months and we need to get this ball rollin." She continues to talk nonsense and she kicks the two girls in their sides, forcing them to wake up. She hands me today's newspaper, knowing that I like to read it in the morning.

I block out what she's saying as I grab the paper and walk into my bedroom, quickly turning on the hot water in my shower before I open it up to take a quick peak. I turn to the entertainment section and my heart stops.

_Timberlake Reveals Love For Diaz_

I read the article carefully, absolutely terrified as to what it might say.

"_I have more fun with her than I have with anybody else." "She's beautiful, inside and out." "She's got me hooked, man. She really does."_

I feel hot tears on my cheeks as I read the words. I don't understand. How could our relationship come to this. Still do this day I can't picture myself without him and here he is talking about some new bitch who I can guarantee isn't even half of what I am. I look at myself in the mirror and resist the urge to punch the reflection in the glass. I hate him. I hate her. I hate myself.

I step in the shower and let the hot water run over my body, hoping that it will wash away all the pain that this man has brought me. I start to feel that pain in my heart again, and it hurts, really bad. I want it gone. But I don't worry, because I know exactly how to make it go away, and I can't wait. This is going to be an ugly cycle.


	2. Chapter 1

July 2003 – One Month Later

Justin's POV

One month into the tour and I'm already exhausted. Every night when I'm on stage, I love every minute of it, but my heart just isn't in it this time. I can't really put my finger on it. I think I've just been over worked, really. But nobody cares or notices but me. Ken certainly doesn't give a shit. That's evident in the way he's talking to me right now. He never asks my opinion on anything. He just tells me what I'm going to do and that's that. The only thing I've had freedom on this whole year is my music. Thank God.

"So I talked to Christina," Ken says as he leans his elbows on the table. I'm trying to eat my lunch and he's still yappin away about business. What a prick. "And she said she's more than happy for another leg in the US." He doesn't ask my opinion, he just opens his lap top and starts typing away. "Maybe we could even do a European leg. A short one, of course." Still, he's not even looking at me. "And I really think you should go to Asia."

"No."

He finally looks up from his laptop, confusion clearly on his face.

"What do you mean, no?" He asks as he watches me chew my food.

"I said no. This tour is just one leg. That's it. I can't do anymore than that."

"Justin, just one leg of a tour is almost unheard of!" He says with a baffled expression.

"I don't give a shit," I say as I stand up from the table. "I'm done with all of this. After this tour is over I'm taking a damn break, and that's final." I quickly walk out of the hotel room and down the hall, getting away from him as fast as I can. I quickly get on the elevator and head down a couple of stories where I know Trace is staying.

I don't know why I'm in such a foul mood today. I've actually been feeling pretty good lately. But something has definitely gotten to me today. It started as soon as I woke up and we checked into the hotel.

As I'm looking around the elevator its then that it hits me. I'm in Louisiana. The show tonight is in New Orleans. I haven't been to this state since we broke up. Just the smell of the air reminds me of her. I couldn't even count the number of amazing memories we've had while we stayed in New Orleans or Kentwood, which is just barely an hour away from where I'm staying.

I wonder how her mother is doing. I wonder how her sister is doing. I wonder how she is doing.

The pain never stops. It never goes away. It's a slow and steady pain that pokes like a sharp needle in the core of my heart. I've been able to suppress the feeling lately with Cameron being a distraction and all. But it happens at least once a day, every day. When I allow myself to think about her and that shooting pain almost makes me fall to my knees. Whose idea was it to come here, anyway?

I step off the elevator and head for Trace's room with my hands in my pockets. I approach his suite, that I pay for, and find that the door is cracked open. I can hear his laughter from inside the room and I step in the find him reading an article in a tabloid.

"What are you doing?" I say with a chuckle as I see the goofy grin on his face.

"Man, have you been reading the papers lately?" He asks as he gets up from the couch and walks toward me.

I roll my eyes and reply, "You know I don't read that shit, Trace."

"Well, let me read it for you," he says as his grin becomes bigger, if that's at all possible.

"America's sweetheart is now America's slut," he barely is able to say before he breaks out laughing. I angrily grab the paper from him and look down at the page, startled to see a picture of Britney. "Go on man," he says, still laughing, "read it!"

_Spears has developed quite the reputation for being a party girl and a man eater. Instead of working on her new album, she chooses to party literally every night. And instead of finding a nice stable boyfriend, she is almost always seen leaving a club with a new guy on her arm. Sources close to Spears claim that she has gotten out of control and that she is definitely living dangerously. _

"_She's developed quite the drinking habit," says the source who has been Britney's party buddy for the past couple of weeks. "That girl just doesn't stop. She's also seemed to develop a strong hate towards men, although she takes a new one home every night."_

_When asked to comment on the rumors that Britney is a heavy drug user, she refused to reply, saying, "that's something I'll definitely get in trouble for if I discuss it."_

_So how long will this behavior last for the former innocent mouseketeer? Is it just a phase, or will it prove to be her downfall? _

I shake my head as I angrily throw the paper onto the ground.

"That's bullshit," I say angrily. "Complete bullshit. Britney doesn't drink. She never has. And she definitely would never fucking touch drugs."

"Think again," he says as he turns the volume up on the TV.

I watch as the news woman shows a video clip of Britney walking out of the club, barely able to hold herself up. At one point she stumbles and falls, but her body guard catches her before she hits the ground. Her body guard immediately puts a jacket over her head as he assists her into her awaiting vehicle.

"Just another day in the life of a party girl," Trace says with a chuckle.

"This shit isn't funny, Trace," I say as I grab the remote and turn off the TV. I can feel my blood boiling in anger over what she's doing. Doesn't she know its dangerous? "There's no way her mom, or especially her dad, is letting her do this to herself."

"The girl is 21," he says matter-of-factly. "She can do whatever she damn well pleases. And it appears as though what she wants to do is party and fuck."

"Trace shut the fuck up!" I yell as I reach my boiling point. "That's not Britney. That girl is somebody else."

"Like you know her now?" Trace asks with raised eyebrows. "A year after a break up can really change a person. Looks as though its changed her for the worse."

I watch him walk into his bedroom to leave me standing alone with my racing thoughts. Could this all be because of me? What should I do? Should I even get involved? Yes, of course I have to. I can't let the girl that I love slowly kill herself.


	3. Chapter 2

August 2003

Justin's POV

Finally. Its been weeks trying to track down this girl who never seems to stay in the same place for more than one night. I have a show in Miami at the same time that she decided to come and party over here. The more and more I pay attention to what's going on with her the more I realize that this girl probably doesn't sleep. I wonder what she's running from.

It wasn't hard to find where she's staying. I still remember the hotel she likes. I still remember her code names. And I still remember the suite that we always used to share, that I must admit, I was surprised to find out she was staying in there.

There's a really heavy lightening storm outside, so hopefully things go smoothly, because if they don't and she kicks me out, I'll have nowhere to go until the storm passes. As I'm waiting for the elevator to take me all the way up to the top floor my phone vibrates in my pocket. Its Cameron.

"Hey Cam," I say as I clear my throat.

"Hey babe! What are you doing?" Her voice is calm yet cheerful. Does this girl ever feel down? I have yet to see her sad, which I guess is a good thing. It balances out how low I can get, especially of late.

"I'm just uh, getting ready for rehearsal," I say, trying my best to sound convincing. Lying is something I'm not used to. I would never imagine lying to Britney in a million years. But right now, I think its necessary.

"I thought you had rehearsals earlier?"

"Yeah well, something went wrong so we have to practice it again."

"Such a perfectionist," she says as I hear her giggle. I give her a chuckle, even though its not genuine.

"Hey babe, I gotta go," I say as the elevator opens. "I'll call you after the show."

I hang up before she has the chance to respond and walk down the all too familiar hallway. Its been forever since I've been here. She must have a lot more strength than I do, because there's no way I would be able to stay here. Its haunting.

I walk all the way down to the end of the hallway where the presidential suite is. I stand in front of the door with my hand raised, ready to knock. But I can't bring myself to do it. What if she's with another guy? I probably wouldn't be able to control myself. I'd kill him right then and there. But what if she's not? What if she's waiting for me, hoping I would come and save her?

I decide to push these childish thoughts out of my head and I grow the balls to actually knock. I hear shuffling and voices, none of them male. Thank God. The door opens to reveal Felicia. She looks distraught, stressed, and as if she's about to break down and cry at any moment. And the look on her face gets worse as she sees that its me on the other side of the door.

"What on earth are you doing here?" She asks as she closes the door so its open just enough so that I can see her face. "You should leave, _now._"

"I'm not leaving. I came here for a reason."

"No," she says as she shakes her head franticly. "You need to leave."

Its then that I hear her voice approaching, and Felicia immediately closes the door in my face. I put my ear against the door so that I can decipher what they're saying. Even though she sounds very angry and sad, the sound of her voice almost brings me to tears.

"Who's at the door?"

"Nobody, Britney. Go back in your room."

"My friends are gonna be here at any minute, you better tell me when they come."

"Those people you call friends are low life's!" I hear her scream. I've never heard Felicia yell like this before, ever. "And I'm not going to allow you to keep ruining yourself like this!"

I hear Britney laugh, but its not a happy laugh. Its a very sad and tired laugh.

"You're such a drama queen. Tell me who's at the fucking door!"

"Fine, you think you're so strong? Its Justin. Justin came to see you."

My heart beats fast as I hear complete silence after she says this. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, she speaks. But I almost wished she hadn't.

"Tell that piece of shit to stay the fuck away from me. I don't ever want to see his face again."

"Fine. Keep pushing the only good people out of your life Britney!"

I hear a door slam as Felicia opens the door again to reveal her tear stained face. I've never seen her like this.

"Its so bad, Justin," she says as she cries. "I don't know who this person is, but its not Britney. She doesn't smile anymore, she doesn't laugh. She barely eats, she smokes like a chimney. She drinks every single god damn day and I just know she's been doing drugs. I don't know what to do anymore. Nobody knows what to do."

"Felicia, just let me talk to her," I say as I step toward her.

"She doesn't want to see you. I'm sorry."

"Let me in," I say firmly. She reluctantly moves to the side as I step in and make my way towards the room we used to share. The door is closed and the light is off, and I know that after she slammed the door she slumped down onto the floor. And I know she's still sitting there now.

I cautiously walk towards the door, giving her a warning that I'm coming, but that I won't enter. I kneel onto the ground and rest my forehead and hands against the door, getting as close to her as I possibly can knowing that she's sitting right on the other side. I wait a moment as I hear her soft sniffles and quiet sobs.

"Go away."

It was a tiny sound, as if it came from a mouse. The sound of her voice in those two words revealed how broken she truly was.

"What are you doing to yourself?" I whisper back. I hear a sob escape, but she quickly recovers.

"What the fuck do you care?"

This breaks my heart, for her to think that I don't care about her. I know I've done and said some stupid shit, but I live and breath for this girl. She should know that.

"Britney, I'm worried about you. I don't want you to get too deep into this that you can't come out. You remember how bad your dad was, and you always said you didn't want to end up like that. So what are you doing now? Its exactly the same."

"Don't talk about my father," she says angrily. "You don't have the right to talk about my family anymore. You're a fucking stranger to me."

"Don't say that," I beg as a tear falls from my eye. "Britney I love you and-"

"Fuck off. You love Cameron," she says sarcastically. "You can move on like its nothing and like I never existed so I don't even know why you're here. Go back to your new girlfriend."

"Britney, that's not the issue right now. The issue is that your life is at stake here, and I love you. I don't want you to continue to hurt yourself."

She stays silent for a moment, and I think that she's actually considering my words.

"Go away."

It sounded the same as it did the first time she said it, and my heart breaks all over again.

"Britney please open the door," I beg as the tears continue to fall.

"I don't want to see your face," she says, her voice shaky. "Just get the fuck out of my hotel room."

"Justin," I hear Felicia say behind me as she touches her hand to my back. "You need to leave. I know you don't know it, but you're only making it worse."

I turn around to look at her and I see the seriousness in her eyes. She's right. I'm just fueling her anger and bitterness. The longer I stay here, the more she'll try to forget me later. I get up off of the floor and dry my eyes. I lean into the door once more before I leave. "I love you Britney. I love you so much." I wait for her to answer, but she doesn't.

I leave the hotel as the storm outside is still raging. But I couldn't care less. I walk out into the storm and the rain, hoping that the girl that I love will come back.


	4. Chapter 3

October '03

Britney's POV

I'm rudely awaken by the sound of a loud boom of thunder coming from outside. I slowly open my eyes and lift my head off of my pillow to look out the window. Its pouring rain outside. I see a flash of lightening and it causes a shooting pain to go through my head. I groan and put my head back onto the pillow as I pull the covers over my head. I'm starting to fall back into a deep sleep when I hear the door to my bedroom open.

"Britney, wake up," Felicia says unenthusiastically. She's stopped caring about her job lately. She used to be so full of life and would love to be around me and help me with every little thing. But now its as if she hates me. Sometimes I feel really guilty and sad about what's happened to us, but that's only when I'm sober. And that's not very often.

She pokes me in my side when I don't answer her, and repeats her half hearted demand again. I somehow find the strength to open my dry mouth and croak out a raspy "no" in response.

"I'm not taking this shit today," she says as she pulls the warm covers away from my body. I hear her laugh when she sees that I'm still in the same clothes from last night. "Get your ass out of this bed and into the living room. Today is important."

"What?" I say as I turn my head to face her. "I don't have anything to do today."

"Oh yes you do," I hear my mom's voice from behind me. I quickly sit up and squint my eyes to get a good look at my mother. I haven't seen her in like a month.

"What are you doing here?" I ask as I grab my pounding head.

"Get up," she says as she crosses her arms. "We need to have a talk."

"Can't I have some coffee first?"

"NO," she says sternly as she turns on her heels and walks out the door.

"This isn't a joke," Felicia says as she grabs my arm to help me out of bed. "You need to get in there."

I give her an agitated grunt and reluctantly make my way to the living room of my New York apartment. I can feel Felicia's hand on my back as she pushes me forward through the hallway. I turn the corner and walk into the living room to see a huge group of people sitting quietly. I see my whole family, including my parents, siblings. Also present are members of my management team. What the fuck is going on?

I laugh bitterly as I scan the faces in the room.

"What is this?" I ask as I cross my arms.

"Britney you better sit your butt on that couch," my dad says as he points to the seat opposite of him. I look at the empty space between Jamie Lynn and my mother.

"How did everyone get here?" I ask in disbelief. "How long has this been planned?"

"Britney. Sit. Down," my father says with venom in his voice. There's no doubt that he's not messing around. I can feel Felicia urge me forward and I reluctantly take the seat between my mother and sister.

"Britney," my dad starts as he clasps his hands across from me. "Your behavior lately is really concerning to us. Especially to me. You're fading fast baby girl. And even though I know you think this is all fun and games now, its only a matter of time before it catches you for good. And I can see in your eyes that you're not that from away from it."

"What are you talking about?" I ask as I furrow my eye brows in confusion.

"Britney, don't play dumb," my brother says. "We all know you have a problem."

"A problem?" I say in disbelief. "A problem with what?"

"With drugs and alcohol," I hear Felicia say.

"What? This is bullshit! What the fuck is this, some kind of intervention?" I hear Jamie Lynn sniffle next to me and I look down to see her crying. "You brought a twelve year old to a drug intervention? What the fuck is wrong with you people?"

"Britney this is serious," my mother says with cold eyes. "Don't you remember what I told you? About staying away from this kind of stuff?"

"I'm just having fun," I say as I get more and more frustrated. "I'm 21, this is what people my age are supposed to do!"

"Really?" I look up as my brother speaks to me. "People your age get drunk every single night? People your age do cocaine every single night? No Britney, they don't! I have yet in the past four months to see you sober, and its killing me. Its killing all of us! But most of all, its killing you."

I can feel my eyes start to water as his words sink in. I know I'm lying to all of them. I don't do it for fun. I do it to erase Justin from my memory every chance I can get. I do it to take away the pain. I know I have a problem but I don't want it taken away from me. Its my escape from the reality of the pain.

I feel Jamie Lynn's hand on my arm and I look down to see a replica of myself. She's so young, so innocent. She shouldn't have to know this kind of darkness as this age. But then again, I saw it at her age with my dad. I immediately feel guilt wash over me as a tear slips from her eye.

"Please Brit," she says as she sniffles. "I want my big sister back."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I'm speechless as I look at my precious little sister and I know that everyone in the room has noticed that she's knocked the wind out of me.

"Britney, your album releases in a month," I hear Larry say as he breaks me from my trance. "And it's your best work yet. You don't want people to overlook it because of what's going on in your personal life, do you?"

I can only manage to shake my head no as a tear escapes my eye.

"The single releases in a week and we've gotta shoot the video asap. Don't you want to give your all for it?"

"Yes…I do," I say as I wipe away a tear.

"Good. So, the question is, are you willing to stop?"

My heart is pounding when he asks me this. I look around the room at all of the pleading eyes. Can I do this? I honestly don't know if I can handle the immense and torturous pain in my heart that I'm going to have to deal with day in and day out. But I have to try. I have to. I close my eyes and nod my head, which causes everybody in the room to let out the breath that they were holding.

"I have a rehab clinic that-"

"No," I interrupt Larry before he can finish. My problem isn't _that _bad. Or is that just denial? "I don't need that. Its not that bad. I can do this myself."

"Britney," my dad says, "when someone is an addict they need professional help or else they can never get better."

"I'm not an addict," I say in protest. "I can stop easily. And I will. I'm gonna stop. I promise."

*That night

I sit out on my balcony with my mother next to me. We've been sitting in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes now, just enjoying each other's company.

"You're such a strong person, Brit," she says. "You don't need a drug to help you cope with something."

"I know," I say quietly. "You can go home, you know. You don't have to stay with me."

"Oh yes I do," she says as she looks over at me. "I'm here to help you."

She smiles at me and gets up to go inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sigh and lean back in my chair as I hug myself from the chill in the air. I look over to my left and see a stack of magazines that my sister was looking at earlier. I pick up the one on top and scan through the pages, seeing the usual pictures of me coming out of a club drunk with some nasty headline. Whatever.

I flip through the pages and my heart sinks when I see a picture of Justin and Cameron kissing on a beach. Before I even have time to know what's happening tears are pouring down my face. There's a burning sensation in my chest and realize that its my heart breaking. I angrily walk up to the rail and throw the paper over the edge, cursing him as I watch it go down. I know exactly what I need right now, but as I turn around and see my mother inside, I know I can't go down that road. I'm just gonna have to stick it out and be strong.

This is gonna be harder than I thought.


	5. Chapter 4

December '03

Britney's POV

There's really nothing better than this. Being surrounded by my family and friends on my birthday. Tears fill my eyes as I see my mother walking towards me with a cake while everyone sings me happy birthday. As the song ends, everyone claps and my mother places the cake with twenty two candles in front of me.

"Make a wish Brit, and make it good!" I hear my brother say in the crowd.

I smile and close my eyes, trying to think of something to wish for. But the only thing that comes to my mind is Justin. The only thing I want and need is him. That's the one thing that I can't deny. So I take a deep breath and think of him as I make my wish, blowing out the candles right after. Everyone cheers as my dad kisses me on the head and my mom begins to cut the cake. Larry comes and sits next to me with a glass of wine in his hand.

"I'm so proud of you, Britney," he says as he puts his arm around my shoulders. I smile and lean into his embrace. "The album went number one, just like we knew it would. The second single is a huge hit. The tour preparations are coming along great. You're on the right path, hun."

I smile at him and say thank you. I'm definitely proud of this album and the accomplishments that its made. And I know I wouldn't have been able to make it happen if I were in the state I was in.

My mom hands me a piece of cake, and before I can take a bite my sister calls my name from behind me.

"Britney! Telephone!" I watch as she runs towards me with the phone in her hand and a huge smile on her face. I give her a questioning look as I take the phone from her.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know," she says with a shrug as she runs off. But I know that the smile on her face means that she knows exactly who it is.

I raise the phone to my ear as I place the plate down in front of me.

"Hello?"

There's silence for a moment, but then he finally speaks up.

"Happy birthday."

My breath catches in my throat as I hear his voice. I can feel myself start to sweat and my heart pound as I hear him breathing on the other end.

"Aren't you gonna say thank you?" He says with a nervous chuckle when I don't reply.

But thank you aren't the words that I want to say to him, and its not what comes out.

"You have some nerve calling me," I say bitterly. I look up to see everyone's eyes on me and I decide to take this into the other room.

"I've spent five birthdays with you," he says softly, "If I didn't at least wish you a happy birthday I wouldn't feel right."

I laugh at his statement as I sit in front of the giant Christmas tree in my living room.

"I'd rather you not call at all during this time of year," I say harshly.

He and I both know that the holidays aren't an exactly easy time for us. The months of December and January hold so much meaning to both of us, and I knew it would be especially hard to get through it this year.

"How have you been?" He says, decided to change the subject. "I hear you've been doing well."

"You mean have I stopped drinking?" I ask sarcastically. "Have I stopped being that crazy drunk girl that goes out every night?"

"Actually, yeah, that's exactly what I mean."

I don't know what to say to him. I'm embarrassed that he knows that I had a problem, but at least he doesn't know that its all because of him. Or does he?

"I also wanted to congratulate you on your album," he says, cutting the tension a little bit. "Its amazing. It really is."

"Thanks," I say quietly. "I worked really hard on it."

Please don't bring up the song. Please don't bring up the song. Please don't bring up the song.

"And um, I just wanted to say thank you for 'Everytime.'"

Shit.

"It really means a lot to me, and it really touches me. Its one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard."

"What makes you think its about you?" I say harshly.

"Well…I think its pretty obvious," he says with a laugh.

"You're so fucking vain," I say with a grunt.

"Are you seriously gonna sit here and tell me that its not about me?" He asks. I sit in silence as I contemplate his question. I can't lie to him about this. Its too painfully obvious.

"I'll take your silence as a yes," he says.

I'm about to speak up and say something, but I hear a female voice in the background. I listen carefully to the words she says, although I wish I didn't.

"Baby, aren't you gonna come to bed? I've been waiting for you."

My heart drops and my face adopts an expression of disgust when I hear another woman talking to the man I love desperately in this way. That bitch. I could kill her.

He attempts to muffle the phone, but I can still hear him.

"Yeah I'll be there in a second."

"Sounds like you've got a girl to fuck," I say very angrily as tears fall down my face.

"Britney, don't be like that."

"Be like what? I still hate you for how easily you moved on," I say as all my emotions pour out of me before I even know it. "We were trying to patch things up in January of this year and three months later you have a new girlfriend? Do you know how much that hurt me? How much that _still _hurts me?"

"Brit, calm down. I never meant to hurt you-"

"Bullshit. All you do lately is hurt me. You should have never fucking called here. Don't ever call me ever again."

I angrily hang up the phone and throw my head in my hands as the tears fall rapidly. I begin to sob and it becomes hard to breath as the pain in my heart is ripping me apart. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. That's all I can think as my body goes numb with pain. I was supposed to marry him. I was supposed to have his children. That man said he couldn't breath without me yet he's moved on like its nothing. He shattered me to the very core, and for that I will never forgive him.

I pick my head up and look around the room and my eyes land on a newly opened bottle of red wine…my favorite. I contemplate what I promised my family about drinking. I said I would stop. But right now the pain in my chest is nearly killing me and I can't take it. All I need is one drink. Just one. I've proven to myself that I can stop easily, so what is the harm of one drink? Its my damn birthday after all.


End file.
